


Five Times Jem Walked In On Simon and Kieren And One Time She Didn't

by sprinklyzucchini



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Simon and Kieren are horny undead teenagers going at it at every chance possible, The Mental Scarring of Jemima Walker, btw Kieren's starting to... re-humanize??, sorry I'm bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinklyzucchini/pseuds/sprinklyzucchini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, here’s the thing. Jem was pretty much on board and more-than-happy for her brother’s burgeoning relationship with Simon.<br/>What she was <i>not</i> amenable to, however, was accidentally <i>almost</i> catching an eyeful of Kier’s crotch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. The Five-plus-One story. This is my first attempt at fanfic, ever.   
> *squirms uncomfortably because how to summary*  
> Reviews of any nature (but please _try_ to keep it kind, I'm a sensitive fluffy creature okay.) are most welcome.

Jem lugged the three bags full of groceries with little effort as she made her way towards the front door. She fumbled in her pockets for the keys, setting the bags down and looking at the third one in some trepidation.

_There were still some recipes not already tried and (successfully) prepared by Mum? God._

Sue Walker had been on an explosively experimental culinary phase lately. Ever since that fateful day she witnessed her son, Kieren It’s-Definitely-In-His-Top-Three-Meals-We-Don’t-Eat Walker, wolfing down the last packet of crisps, she went a bit crazy. In the best, healthiest way possible.  
No one was complaining, certainly.

 _Speaking of Mum, she’s probably over at the Wilson’s,_ Jem sighed as she realized that she had to unload and sort out all the stuff by herself. _Great._

She walked down the hallway, preoccupied with thoughts of sorting the shelves and her pending homework when she was greeted by the sight of Simon and Kieren on the sofa, facing away from the door, in the living room.

Or, more accurately, _Kieren_ was sitting on the sofa, clutching the armrests and moaning incoherently ( _how had she not heard that? How?!)_ while Simon’s head bobbed up and down, quite enthusiastically, in his lap.

Now, here’s the thing. Jem was pretty much on board and more-than-happy for her brother’s burgeoning relationship with Simon.  
What she was _not_ amenable to, however, was almost catching an eyeful of Kier’s crotch. Or her brother looking like his soul was being sucked out through his prick by the no-doubt-talented Simon, judging by the noises he was making.

Neither of them had witnessed the Mental Scarring of Jemima Walker.

Simon glanced up at Kieren in what was presumably a seductive look, and then his gaze was directed onto Jem, who was still frozen. He stopped moving, his eyes widening- and that finally spurred Jem into action.

She didn’t exclaim or flail dramatically, just picked up the bags and strode to the kitchen, her face flaming red.

She proceeded to avoid Kieren and Simon for the rest of the evening. Just for that evening. They could apologize to each other in a show of formality (because none of them really needed to.) and talk about it(or not!) the next day, she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jem should always knock; and Simon and Kieren should probably use the Hat-on-the-Door-Handle method.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, the punctual and speedy updater! Wa-hay! Lol not really, I've been sitting on the comp for five hours, blogging and typing away simultaneously. Eh.
> 
> Warning for incredibly stupid and predictable puns.
> 
> Reviews and comments and Kudos - duly appreciated. Merci!

They didn’t talk about it.

And in less than a week, the awkwardness dissipated.

~~o0O0o~~

Yawning and still rubbing out the remnants of sleep from her eyes, Jem stumbled around in her room trying to find her bag. This was unfair. She had made considerable progress on her assignments (with some considerable help from Kier) and now she couldn’t find where she’d put all of it?

Tugging at the bracelet Charlotte had given her- they were friends now- she wrinkled her brow in concentration, trying to move past the constant litany of her sleep-muddled mind chanting at her to plop back down on the bed.

She remembered growling in frustration at a notebook the earlier evening, her hand aching with all the typing, and lazy conversations with- _Oh._

_Huh. Thank goodness it was just Kier’s room rather than an alternate dimension._

Still yawning, she made her way to Kieren’s room and raised her hand to knock, only to drop it and just open the door, telling herself that he was probably asleep (it was so bloody early and he, well, he slept like the dead.) and it’d be better to just tiptoe in, get her bag and notes, and leave without waking him(or them, if Simon had stayed over) up.

Such acts of consideration did not deserve to be rewarded in this manner.

“Oh, god, _no- not again!_ ” Jem cried, covering her eyes, grateful she’d only seen a glimpse and that her mind was still too hazy to work out the details of what exactly her brother was doing with his face at level with Simon’s arse.

Her brother’s face, thankfully _not_ near anyone’s backside now, was contorted in a part incredulous-part furious expression. Simon had covered them both up in lightening speed, and was currently looking at the headboard in faux-fascination.

Peeking between her fingers cautiously, mind unpleasantly jarred back into awareness now, Jem babbled in a voice an octave higher than usual, “Gods, Kier, Simon, I’m _so_ sorry, I- my bag, I just- I’ll go.”

“Have you _heard_ of something called _knocking_?”

Aware that her face was flushed, she spotted her bag by the end of Kier’s table and picked it up in relief. “I’m sorry, I thought you were _asleep_ , Kier!” Her voice had returned to normal, thank goodness. “I had assumed, since you always sleep well into noon- it was an honest mistake, okay?”

Kier opened his mouth to reply with another scathing remark (she couldn’t blame him, he had to be even more embarrassed after all…) when Simon placed his hand on his arm, and he shut his mouth with a sharp click of his jaw.

“Jem, it’s okay. It was an accident. We’ll-uh, we’ll put a sock or a hat or something on the door handle next time, okay?” Simon said, looking disconcertingly calm for a guy who had been walked in on wearing his birthday suit.

Jem nodded. “You’d better.” She directed an apologetic and awkward smile/grimace at them, and walked from the room.

__

Kieren slumped face down on top of Simon’s chest, huffing and covering his face with his hands.

“Should’ve thought of that earlier, sorry, Simon.”  
“Hey- it’s okay. At least we’ll remember from now on.”  
“That was a lesson learnt the hard way, I suppose.”

When Simon didn’t answer, Kieren looked up to find him smirking slightly.

“Ha. I suppose, yes.” He continued smirking. Kieren, in a sudden burst of understanding, turned around and smacked his shoulder. “Jesus, Simon. You did not just-”

“Ow!”

“Oh, shut it, no way you felt that-” He burst into giggles.

“Oh, really?” Simon chuckled along, holding Kieren tight and flipping them over. Kieren’s giggles were cut short by a gasp as his back hit the pillow.

 They looked at each other for a moment- their eyes bright with laughter over a stupid pun- searching for the heat that had clouded them not more than five minutes ago.

Kieren reached up and kissed Simon on the nose, wrapping both arms around his neck. “Is it _that_ hard to recapture what we were doing after being interrupted?” He sighed, and went in for a snog- preferably heated- and stopped, as he realized what he’d said. Again.

They burst out in a fit of giggles against each other’s mouths, barely able to kiss because of how much they were grinning.

Ah, who cared, this was just as good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jem loves her elder-now-younger(??) brother dearly, but sometimes she wants nothing more than to slap him upside the head. And Simon, too, for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to have fun writing this. Squee.

Jem loves her elder-now-younger(??) brother dearly, but sometimes she wants nothing more than to slap him upside the head. And Simon, too, for good measure. He and Jem had built up a pretty good rapport, so it wouldn’t be a big deal, really.

They’d hung out that evening, faffing about and generally having a good time right up until they’d had to face Gary’s hateful mug at The Legion.   
He and Jem had shared one vitriolic look- years of comradeship, the impulsive fancy to each other, the betrayal and newfound disgust she felt now for this man who’d held on to his destructive prejudices while most had moved on. She didn’t know if he resented her for that.

She didn’t care. It was just... awkward and unpleasant. Nothing she couldn’t stubbornly ignore.

So they ignored each other. So did Kier and Simon. Until Gary started spewing his anti-rotters and ‘the old days’ bullshit just out of spite (his mates just looked on helplessly, as if this was an everyday occurrence, and Pearl reprimanded him before he could drive out half the customers.)

All in all, their mood was a bit subdued, and Simon and Kieren were casting weird looks at each other- it bordered on angry or heated, and Jem just wanted to escape to the solitude of her own room and surround herself with music until it bled into her vessels and made her heart vibrate.

Thus it came to this – Jem sitting in her room, scribbling in her journal(her therapist had recommended it to help with her PTSD- it was effective.) while the speakers blasted around her. She felt lighter and loads better after half an hour.

She wondered if Kier and Simon were venting, or if they’d just not cared. They’d certainly looked a bit narked some time ago.

So when she heard an ominous thud, followed by a crash, _over_ her _really loud_ music, she was- understandably- a little worried.

She ran out of her room, only to hear another dangerously loud thud, and it was from Kier’s room, and _oh god, they weren’t fighting, why would-_ she hesitated, looking for a garment- _THUD-_ on the handle (she had trained herself to do that.) and finding none, _THUD_ \- she barged in.

She heard the cries and moans (mainly coming from Simon) a second after she entered.

All in all, it was a miracle nothing hit her. The ‘thuds’ were the headboard slamming against the wall, and the bedside lamp had toppled over, and the whole room looked like a Simon-And-Kieren-The-Two-Idiots Hurricane had hit it.

The Hurricane in question noticed her, but were too far gone to stop, and with a yell of “For _FUCK’S SAKE,_ ” she stomped out of the room, her face burning. She had the strongest urge to burn out her eyes. That had been- graphic, to say the least.

“ _FUCKING KNOCK ON THE BLOODY DOOR, JEM.”_ Kier bellowed as she ran back to her room.

“ _PUT A BLOODY SOCK ON THE HANDLE, YOU WANKER.”_ She shouted before slamming her door shut.

She rubbed her eyes, somehow hoping the image could be siphoned away, but to no avail.

Slowly, she realized that their parents hadn’t come up to investigate the racket in Kier’s room.   
_Oh bloody hell_ , she thought, _they’d probably learnt their lesson the difficult way too._

__

Jem walked down to the kitchen around midnight- she felt the need for an impromptu nom-nom raid- to find Kier inhaling a cheese-and-ham sandwich, with a plate of crisps and more sandwiches on the table. They always had an over-abundance of food in the house. Now she knew why.

She raised an eyebrow at the plate. He rolled his eyes, and mumbled, “What? Sex works up an appetite.”

Yeah, his appetite would be fairly large right now, considering.

She sat down next to him and promptly stole the second sandwich. He looked like he wanted to glare at her, but he dropped his gaze instead. She was sure he would be blushing furiously if he could.

He cleared his throat.

“Uhm. Look. About the sock. I’m really- uh, we were a little wound up- uh - I should have- I’m sorry.”   
Eloquence personified, her brother was.

“It’s okay. Actually no, not really _that_ okay- I never wanted to see that- but I should’ve knocked.”

“We weren’t gonna be able to hear you, you know?” He grimaced.

“... Right. Just a question, um, why don’t you guys ever go to his place? Not that I mind Simon here or anything...” She trailed off lamely.

He smiled.”I know you don’t. It’s just, it was his _and_ Amy’s place too, you know? Painful memories and all that. We’re... moving on. I’d like to think we are.” He shuddered, and seemed to speak to his lap rather than her. “Tonight was, we were a little desperate and a little angry, I guess. About what Gary said, and what he’d done, and this new _thing_ with me-” He glanced wistfully at the sandwiches, “and what it means, just... everything.” He rubbed his face. “Sorry you probably didn’t want to-”

She put the sandwich down, and reached over to hug him. It was an awkward half-hug, but his shoulders relaxed. “It’s okay. You can vent to me.” She smiled, sitting back down.

Pause. “As long as it’s within reason.” She added. “No details about your sex life, okay? Although, I guess I’ve unwillingly witnessed most of it, hey, I didn’t know you topped r-” She started laughing as he punched her shoulder, cursing under his breath.

“What did we just decide on, Jem? And yes. I top. Most of the time, anyway.” He answered, probably to get back at her, grinning when she glared at him.

“OKAY! No more. It’s okay.” She held up her hands in surrender, and then mimed zipping her lip and locking it, throwing away the key. Kieren laughed. “Deal.”

“And remember the socks.”

“’Course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere, Sue Walker is sitting in zen mode, calmly sipping her tea and wisely ignoring the racket on the upper floors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploiting loopholes, and a braver Jem who inwardly sniggers at crude jokes and innuendos now, and is horrified by it seconds later.  
> Oh, and celebratory sex. _Implied_. I'm not changing the ratings =P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the later chapters, but they might not be up for a while... :/  
> Meanwhile, voici! *drops chapter and scurries away*

They remember the socks.  Jem’s grateful. Everything was going swimmingly. Mum still attempted to stuff Kier up with five years’ worth of missed nutrition.

No one knew what was going on Kier, but it didn't seem to be anything malevolent or particularly harmful (Kier had vehemently vetoed the suggestion of going to Dr Russo, and Mrs Wilson hadn’t been much help). They almost didn't want to admit that they were subconsciously holding their breath for the endgame.

Then Jem strolls into the kitchen one late, lazy Sunday afternoon, her insides growling with hunger, to find Kieren and Simon exploiting the obvious loophole in the Sock-On-The-Handle Rule.

 Because they were dry-humping each other on the table. And currently in the process of ripping away each other’s clothing with utter disregard.  
Socks wouldn't have mattered. _They wouldn't have stood a chance._

Jem gritted her teeth. Maybe she wasn't quite so flustered because they weren't _completely_ going at it. Yet. She couldn't believe that her lack of embarrassment came from the fact that she’d actually seen worse (No sister should have to resort to that.)  
Also, her stomach currently making noises like a dying walrus and twisting painfully to get her attention _may_ have been an aiding factor.

Hunger really did make you oblivious of your normal inhibitions, she thought wryly, looking at them, and coughed loudly. She felt like a bit of an arse breaking them up, but goddamnit, _she knew she wouldn't be able to ever eat at the table again if they went further than that._

They broke away with a jerk, Kieren whining and gasping for breath, and Simon freezing up instantly.

They were in such an intimate moment, with their arms wrapped around each other, they looked desperate, like a second of separation was torture for either of them.

Okay, Jem was decidedly uncomfortable now. So much that she felt like sacrificing the table to them, only to get out of their space.

Ridiculous. The table was common territory, and it was supposed to be used for _eating_ , in this house. _Eating_ , an activity Jem would benefit from, and would very much like to do right _now._  
This was her stomach speaking, obviously. She let it.

“You can go to the bedroom any day now, boys.” She huffed, half in frustration, and half in guilt.  
Then she felt guilty for feeling frustrated, and frustrated for feeling guilty. Lovely.

Both of them broke out in loud and flustered apologies, and as Simon shifted to turn around and face Jem, she saw her brother- and the power of thought and speech instantly failed her.

Kier was _flushed_ , that is- pink cheeks and lips red and swollen, his hair mussed- almost golden, it was so bright- and his skin was full of colour, _actual colour_ , _not the orange-ish mousse_! And his _eyes_. They were wide, and his irises were once again, the rich hazel-brown that Jem remembered. And she knew they weren't those glassy lenses, which were a muddy brown and nothing like his real eye-colour.

He was human. God knows how, but he was. Jem gulped.

“Oh, fuck, wow, just wha-” Jem started, her brain now whirring with questions, but stopped at the anguished look on Kier’s face.

“Look, Jem, I’d love to answer to whatever you wanna ask me now, but the basics you should know, for the time being, are these,” He gasped, seemingly in pain. “I’m human. Again. And my circulatory and nervous systems work _much_ better now, in fact, frighteningly better and this means, I _have to go. Now._ ” He finished, through clenched teeth.

_Oh. OH._

Jem was certain her face had caught fire, as she avoided looking anywhere below their waists, and coughed again. “It’s okay. The questions can wait.”

_What an inopportune time to be curious._

Simon, letting out an audible sigh of relief, wordlessly complied, picking up their jackets, gathering Kieren in his arms- bridal style- and practically ran up the stairs. He was apparently too desperate for words.

Jem’s formerly-protesting stomach remained silent.

__

It was a contemplative mood that Mum found her in, when she returned twenty minutes later. Contemplative, and still a little shell-shocked (after the mortification had worn out).

“What’s gotten into you, then?” She smiled, as she set her scarf on the back of the chair.

“Kieren’s alive.”

“In a way, he is, I suppose. ...We know that.” She frowned, and looked a little worried. “Jem... Wait, what do you- what’s gotten into him? Jem?”

Jem inwardly snorted and almost said, _Simon, that’s who,_ then shook her head in disbelief over the fact that she was so jokey and prone to crude innuendos now.

“Uh... I meant-uhm, he’s actually alive. Human-alive. Not-at-All-Deceased, instead of Partially Deceased, _that_ way.’

Mum looked disbelieving for a moment, and then her face was suffused with joy. “Oh,” she exclaimed softly and then turned as if to make for the stairs to visit her son.

“Wait! Not now.” Jem cried. She winced at Mum’s resulting expression, and said “You don’t want to go to his room now. Simon’s there. They’re having celebratory-uh, uhm- they’re celebrating.” Jemima Walker somehow still stuttered around the word ‘sex’ around her Mum, ridiculous that it was.

Mum got the gist anyway, as she nodded in understanding calmly. _Calmly?!_ That was surprising.

As if catching onto her train of thought, she smiled at Jem’s no-doubt stupidly gaping expression.  
“If they’re _celebrating_ , then the questions and all-round congratulating can wait, by all means.”

Jem gaped some more. Sue Walker was nonchalant, still, as she took out the milk for tea.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m used to that by now.”  
“Oh...?”  
“I did walk in on them once. It was rather... jarring on the eyes. They were ful-”  
“Mum!”  
“Oh sorry, you probably don’t want to know.” She grimaced.  
“No. I don’t. I’ve gone through the same, four times and counting.” Jem grumbled. Mum’s eyes widened, as if in sympathy for the mental scarring she had gone through, and then chuckled.

“This is why I’m mostly out of the house, I didn’t want to risk it again.”  
“I figured.” She smirked.  
“I’ve got no problem, really. They are young, and when in a new relationship, one does tend to-”  
“MUM!”

"Sorry, dear."

They whiled away their time chatting, waiting for Kier and Simon to come back. Discussions about their common mind-maiming experience were taboo, of course.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good luck is too mainstream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thanks to everyone who has left Kudos or commented on this! ♥You're all lovely.

Having Kier back alive was wonderful. What’s more, even Simon had acquired that strange tremor, and more importantly, an appetite. Seems like PDS sufferers everywhere were going through this process.   
But back to Kier. As mentioned before, it was wonderful. Of course, he hadn’t aged a day, but he would be. He had colour, and could blush freely and obviously around Simon. He was warm (not that he was ice-cold before, but still.) His sketchbooks filled up even faster, and he took frequent trips to replenish his art supplies. He took frequent trips outside in general.

Jem didn’t know how Kier had the time to be so ‘busy’ along with all the sex he was having with Simon now. The amount of times they shagged had exponentially increased. How did she know? Socks were a permanent decoration on Kier’s door now (although, they stayed over at Simon’s too), they turned up everywhere looking either adorably normal or thoroughly fucked, and various other indicators. Surprisingly, they also managed to be more cautious.

It had been a month and a half and no one had walked in on them.

Jem’s retinas were enjoying the well-deserved rest.

Of course, that meant it would be disrupted. Good luck was so mainstream, after all.

Really, she should’ve expected this, she thought, furious and red-faced in embarrassment, as she stomped back to the house. She’d let herself be lulled into a false, scarring-image-less sense of security. Stupid, stupid!

She didn’t care that she’d interrupted this time. No, this time was a step too far. This time, she’d been hoping to pay Charlotte a visit and was going to take the van out (she took it out every now and then because it was hardly ever needed, Roarton being such a small town) as she was feeling too bored to walk all the way- except that the van was already occupied over at the back.

And despite the darkness inside, her retinas had been rudely dragged back from their ‘rest’ by getting an uncomfortably explicit image branded into them. It was worse than the time she’d walked into their room under the misconception that they were killing each other.

She felt like taking her brain out, and scrubbing it raw until it was purged of the last five minutes, and put it back in.

She also felt like she was over-reacting in her mind. She didn’t care.

In the VAN?! _IN THE VAN?!! In the van, that the family shared?_

She already knew she wasn’t going to share this piece of information with anyone else.

 _They were both adults, for fuck’s sake._ Kinky adults, _the horrid, sadomasochistic part of her mind supplied unhelpfully,_ from what from you saw in the backseat.

Operation Scrub Brain Raw was sounding better by the second.

Well, the location itself wasn’t too surprising, she thought. ‘The Backseat of a Car’ – cliché, really.

What was infuriating was that they’d noticed her, and after the Awkward Moment (which lasted only two seconds), they were back at it. As if nothing had happened.  
She gritted her teeth, grimacing, and ran to the washroom to splash water over her face. A fat lot of good _that_ did, the details were still there instead of being magically washed away like she wished they would.

Good luck is too mainstream, remember?

\--

Hours later, she’s still attempting to beat out the unpleasantness with loud music, after a hasty call to Charlotte rearranging their plans, when Kieren enters her room. She jumps, and turns off the music.

“Ever heard of _knocking_ , Kier?” She sneered.   
“I did knock. You couldn’t hear it.” He tries, and fails, to give a satisfactory glare at the jab.  
“Whatever. Leave me alone so that I can partially rid my poor brain of that, okay? And your face is not helping.”  
“Are you going to- You’re not gonna tell anyone, are yeh?”

She burst out laughing at the unexpected, and completely ridiculous question. “What good will it do, you tell me? You’re adults; technically you can fuck anywhere you want.” He raised an eyebrow at that.  
“And for the record, I’m not. Mum and Dad could live without knowing their son and his boyfriend had mad sex that one time in the van.” She continued.  
“Actually that wasn’t the first time-” Kier started.  
“OH MY GOD KIER, do you not have filters at all _or what_?! I did not need to know that!”

“Sorry. I think you’re right. Kind of. I’m certainly less... inhibited now.” Kier had the audacity to blush, and make puppy eyes, and dammit, they actually worked because his eyes weren’t pinpricked anymore. Jem silently cursed the whole universe.

“Kier... Look, I’m happy for you, surely you don’t need me to tell you that still. But really- oh god I can’t believe I’m actually telling you, or anyone, this-  Fucking. Control. Yourselves. A little. Just a bit.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess we got carried away. You wouldn’t believe how much better sex is as a human, with full-”

“Kier, remember we talked about filters? Two seconds ago?”

He gave a shit-eating grin, and shrugged. “Well, I’m making a promise anyway. We’ll do our best to not get caught.”

“You better keep up that promise.”

“I’ll try. I don’t enjoy being walked on while I’m getting buggered senselessly by my boyfriend, you know.”

“Jesus, you guys are like rabbits on steroids and a fuckload of Viagra. Speaking of your boyfriend, where is he?”

“Si’s on a fridge raid. And don’t worry about the both of us being crazy, _he’s_ properly embarrassed about this. ”

“And you’re not? Didn’t know you had an exhibitionism kink.”

The jab was worth it, just to see Kier’s glorious bitchface.

“I don’t. Have an exhibitionism kink, that is. And no, I _am_ embarrassed, just not enough to avoid you for a week, or to keep up my ‘filters’.” He smiled, shaking his head. “And I _promise_ to keep out of the house altogether when Si turns human.” His smile turned into a smirk.

Jem shuddered. “Yes, that’d be awfully nice of you. Please do that.”

He laughed. “G’night, Jem.”

“Close the door on your way out.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AdorablyBrash!Kieren is my fave. ♥ Hallelujah for his Puppy Eyes powers. They work even with the pearly white ones =P
> 
> I'll stop abusing Jem's retinas now. I'm so sorry, Jem. It's going to be okay now ~


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the one time she didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the new tags. 
> 
> 'M afraid I may have not done my best on this one, but I was hard-pressed to come up with a reason why Jem would want to barge into her bro's room again (So fucking unoriginal- shut up, brain!- what? It is.)
> 
> Donc, you have ze shitty end. But that could just be my endless self-deprecation. In any case, I'm sorry (..?) *shrug*

Thankfully, they kept true to their promise. It seemed to Jem as if it was more for Simon’s benefit than theirs. Poor man had avoided being in Jem’s sight for a full two weeks after the incident she had dubbed (in her mind only, of course) ‘The Defiling of The Walker Van’.

Let it never be said that Jem never assigned a title to her traumatic moments. God knows _why_ , but there you have it.

She was still paranoid, though. It had been emphasized enough already how important it was for her to keep her guard up.

Except today. Today, Jem was to be found carefree, a barely perceptible grin adorning her face, and it was all due to one Charlotte Reigns. She was currently in a hurry to get back, so she could access the Internet. She needed to do research – lots, and lots of research.

She was basically acting like a lovesick fool, and it was highly uncharacteristic of her,  and she couldn’t care less. Research.

In fact, she cared so less, that when she remembered the laptop she and Kier shared (different, password-protected user accounts, but it was mostly hers.) was in said brother’s room, she barged into it without knocking, after sparing a reflexive, cursory glance at the bare handle.

No sooner had she turned the handle and entered, she heard a soft sigh – bordering on a moan, really – and froze at the entrance. Her knees immediately bent slightly, as if preparing to leap and sprint straight back to I-Want-To-Burn-My-Eyes-Out Land.

This was the problem with being so giddy with desire and that funny fluttery feeling she got in her chest and belly whenever she thought of Char. You ceased to remember that there are other amorous couples, who, for all intents and purposes, have gone much uhm... further in their relationships than you probably have. Making out for half an hour and then talking shouldn’t count as ‘far’. Not in her perspective.

_Oh no no no. And this day was going so well._

She hadn’t realized that for all the five seconds she’d been standing there holding her breath, like an idiot (five _entire_ seconds! That’d amount to a week of unwanted voyeuristic porn for Jem, no thanks.) there’d been exactly zero shouting, or a distinct lack of objects thrown in her direction (they’d never been that crude, but Kier bloody well looked like it sometimes).

She also hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes. Oh, but it was reflex. Obvious.

Curiosity growing, she opened them. Ever so slowly, expecting to be assaulted with an HD view of a fuckton of dicks (fine, that was an exaggeration. But only a slight one.)

Oh.

Okay, turns out her five seconds of a near-panic attack had been for naught. She exhaled in relief.

On any other given day, she would’ve called them gross little lovebirds for the sight she was currently witnessing while they both glared and blushed (seemed to, in Simon’s case) at her; she was Kier’s sister, it was obligatory.

Except today, her effectively-muddled brain almost found it cute. Aw.

Kier was lying against Si, wearing one of his mega Jumbo Jumpers (at least, that was what she called them in her mind), fingers entwined with his. Si was asleep too, cheek buried in the unruly golden mop that was his boyfriend’s hair. His broad arms encircled all of Kier, who was quite capable of curling up snugly into the provided space.

In the light coming from the bedside lamp, they looked peaceful. Simon in particular looked like he had more colour on him than ever.

Jem’s thought immediately panned onto the past hour, and onto a certain auburn-haired someone, and her heart warmed. She tip-toed into the room, located the laptop and tucked it under her arm.  
Best to get on that research already.

She spared a last glance at them, all serene and calm (for _once_ , maybe they _need_ all that rest.) and golden from the lamplight.

 _Gross little lovebirds,_ she thought, smirking inwardly, and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jem and Char. Uh, yeah, got carried away. It actually evolved into a separate one-shot. Happens when you go off on a tangent, doesn't it? (muses and grins at their fictional cuteness.) The contents of the aforementioned research shall remain a mystery, but you could probably guess it anyway xD
> 
> *shouldIpostit-shouldIpostit-shouldIpostit-fuckthisIwillpostit* 
> 
> But hey, shitty attempt at chapter or not, I had incredible fun writing this!  
> And to all of you lovelies kind enough to bookmark or leave a kudos or a comment - you alleviated my fear of posting my crap (okay, fine, not crap.) on AO3, and for that, a million thank you's. And some hugs too =P I wuv yu ~(v_v)~ ♥


End file.
